His Pet
by media monkeys
Summary: An unfortunate accident lands Hermione in detention with Filch. HermionexFilch AFHG Oneshot WARNING- non-con, minor character death.


Be My Valentine

Disclaimer: The books and world of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling, not me. I do however own Madame Frofgali and the spell Powfertica.

(a/n: Warning: Small amount of morbid humor, rape, minor character death (Mrs. Norris dies.), dark angst and psychological torment.)

His Pet.

She had done it. This would be the end of her. Why, why did it have to be her? She never did stupid things. That, in her opinion, was Ron's forte. Why couldn't she have done something that wouldn't mean excruciating torture and death? Why couldn't she have… tried to stick her head in a lion's mouth? Or maybe provoked Voldemort (while he was still around)?

No, Hermione Jane Granger, (far too young to die at the mere age of seventeen) had done something worse. She was the reason for the death of Mrs. Norris.

It was an accident, of course. Hermione was many things, but murderer was not one of them. She had been in the library after lights out, and Mrs. Norris had spotted her. Hermione had been sitting at a window seat with the window wide open, looking out over the lake. Mrs. Norris had seen her, and when Hermione tried to get away from the cat, Mrs. Norris had leapt at her. She managed to side-step the cat, but Mrs. Norris went flying out the window.

Blasphemy! You may be thinking. And since when did Mrs. Norris leap at anyone? It had only started a few weeks ago, actually. It was the reason more students were getting caught wandering the halls at night. Filch had been delighted.

Hermione shuddered. Argus Filch had been there. _"Mrs. Norris?!"_ He had shrieked.

"_You!_" He had snarled in rage at Hermione, who hadn't managed to get away. "_You killed my cat. I'll get you for this! I'll get you!_" Then he had looked out the window, completely in tears, calling out "_My precious! My precious!_" It had been a little surprising. Who would have thought the man had a heart?

Hermione again tried to leave, but Filch had stopped her last minute. He let out a few shuddering breathes. "_Detention. Saturday at ten pm. You'll pay for this, you will. I'll make you suffer…" He cackled evilly. _Hermione ran all the way back to the Gryffindor towers.

o – o – o

A short funeral had been held the next day for Mrs. Norris, however only the staff of Hogwarts had attended it. What surprised Hermione was that no one, not even the teachers, seemed to know that she was the reason for Mrs. Norris' death. Although, she decided, that was a good thing. Filch wasn't the only one who'd liked that cat, most of the staff had liked her too.

When Saturday finally came, the inconvenience of her soon to be torture and death of a detention showed itself again.

At breakfast in the great hall, Hermione watched, stunned, as Ron – her boyfriend of two years - stood up on the table in front of Hermione. "Hermione Granger!" He yelled, turning heads everywhere in the great hall. "If I know what love is, it is because of you. Be my Valentine?" Hermione laughed and felt her eyes water slightly. She stood up, grabbed Ron by his tie, and pulled him off the table.

"Of course I will, Ron Weasley! I love you too." Still holding his tie, she tugged it too her and pulled him into a kiss in front of everyone. People hooted and cheered, and when they finally broke apart, people had settled back down to their breakfast, ignoring them again. She felt someone's eyes on her and looked up to see Filch glaring at them from the staff table.

"Here, 'Mione," Ron murmured next to her, pulling out a little bag from his cloak. "For you."

It was full of Sweetie hearts, each one saying Hermione+Ron. She forgot about Filch and beamed at him, making him blush. "Thanks, Ron."

"Anything for you, 'Mione." He paused. "Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight. I was thinking maybe we could have at date at Hogsmeade?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "Actually, Ron, I've got detention tonight."

Ron frowned. "How did _you_ get detention?" She knew what he meant. How could she get detention if she wasn't with Ron and Harry? She was the good girl.

"Filch found me last night after hours in the library." She replied.

Ron moaned. "Bloody fantastic." He muttered sarcastically. "Oh well. Guess we'll have to do it next Saturday." He mumbled sourly. "Try not to get into detention then as well."

"Sorry." She whispered.

He shrugged. "Things happen. Don't worry about it, I forgive you."

He said that, but he didn't mean it, Hermione noticed. He all but ignored her for the rest of the day, and when she confronted him about it, he told her she was being silly. All in all, she was in a horrible mood when dinner came round and in dawned on her that she had to go to detention soon.

"Great. Just great." She muttered, walking to Filch's office. She knocked on the door and was greeted by the usual glare of Filch. She stood shocked for a moment- it seemed Filch had dressed up for Valentines Day. He was wearing a hideous dark pink suit and a red shirt. His hair had been washed and combed back, and his teeth seemed a lot less yellow. He almost looked presentable.

"Well?" He growled, snapping her out of her trance. "Don't just stand there girl, come in!" He barked, opening the door wider. Her surprise increased as she looked around the small room.

Usually it looked like a normal, tiny muggle classroom, a blackboard and Filch's desk at the front and six or so smaller desks behind it for students. The smaller desks had been pushed against the back wall, so that there was some unoccupied space on the floor. A few candles were on random desks at the back of the room, and Filch's desk had an extra chair opposite his one. His desk itself had been covered in Sweetie Hearts candy, all saying 'Mine,' or 'My Precious.'

Filch shut and locked the door behind her. "Did you bring your wand, girl?" He growled.

Hermione shook her head, still processing her surroundings. She hadn't thought she'd need a wand; usually Filch confiscated them during detention anyway.

"Good." Filch said, walking to his desk and opening a random draw. "Here. Put this on." Hermione watched, horrified, as he tossed her a small red dress, with stains of what she couldn't be sure of in strange places.

She chucked it on the floor. "I'm not sure what's going on, Mister Filch," She began, trying to be polite to the crazy old man, "but this is harassment. I will not put that- that _thing_ on." She said sharply, gesturing to the dress.

The old man cackled. "This is detention, Missy; you'll do what you're told. I'm sure you've read Hogwarts a history?" He asked.

She nodded. "What does that have to do w-"

"Then you'll know that Hogwarts Rules and Regulations states that as long as no physical or psychological torment is done, you have to do what I say."

Hermione struggled to contradict this, knowing it was true. She paused for a moment. "Where do I get changed?" She asked at last.

He grinned toothily at her. "Right here, of course."

She glared and bit back a smart remark. The dirty old man. She turned from him and undressed as quickly as she could, feeling his eyes on her the whole time. She carelessly yanked the dress on, then turned back to face him. She shivered as he leered at her; the dress fell just below her knees but had a low cut, showing off her cleavage. "I believe that this is some kind of try at a date," she said frostily. "As soon as this is over I'm reporting you to Professor Dumbledore."

He shrugged, eyeing her up and down. "You deserve it," he hissed. "After what you did to my cat," he choked up at this.

Hermione shivered and crossed her arms, disgusted by his leering. He grinned madly again and took his jacket of, placing it carefully on the back of his chair. "Well then, gir- Hermione," he said, making her look up in surprise. She didn't think he knew any of the students' names. "How are you and that boyfriend of yours? Pity you couldn't be with him tonight, eh?" He asked with a smug grin, reminding her that he'd been in the hall that morning Ron had announced his love.

She huffed, exasperated.

"Seems you're not one for small talk, however." He grinned and pulled a wand from the top draw of his desk.

"What? But you're a squib!" She said, backing away. The old man cackled, and cast a locking spell on the door, and then silencing spells on the room.

"Now now, no need to be afraid, pet!" He took a step towards her, and muttered a final spell. "Powfertica," he growled. Immediately Hermione felt most of her energy drain for her. With another crazy laugh Filch put the wand back in the draw.

"Tell me, precious, are you still a virgin? Or did that boy take you…" He hissed, advancing on her.

"Why?" She asked angrily. "Get away from me!" She shrieked as he backed her into a wall.

Hermione screamed just before he kissed her forcefully, his hands yanking her hair. He lifted the bottom of the dress to her hips, making her struggle harder against him. He dragged down her knickers, petting her between her legs. She screamed and shoved him hard in one last desperate attempt to evade him. With an "Oof!" They fell to the floor.

"You're mine, my precious. My pet." Filch muttered, grabbing her wrist as she tried to crawl away. He grabbed her shoulders from behind, and put his face close to her ears. She felt his hot breath on the side of her face.

"On your knees, mudblood," he snarled as she tried to stand, pulling her back down. He tugged the dress back up to her hips, yanking her knickers down again. He reached his hand around her, stroking her pussy again, cooing. "Not wet yet, my pet?" She went limp, all her energy gone. He took off his clothes, chucking them next to her uniform on the floor. She felt him kneel behind her, and then felt his arm reach round her - the wrinkled and dry skin of his hand against her belly, going lower to stroke between her legs again, before a finger slipped inside her. She gasped and shuddered, falling back against him. "S-stop," she demanded weakly, gasping at the pain. "Ah, you're still a virgin, my lovely," he grinned.

"Now, my pet, why aren't you wet for me?" She shuddered again in disgust as she felt him slide the finger in and out of her. "You're mine, my precious," he muttered angrily, making her cry out as he suddenly forced three fingers in harshly, "That boy can't have you."

He pushed her onto her knees, ignoring her protests, and pushed the red dress up further without taking it off. "You're lovely, my pet," he murmured, pushing his cock into her from behind. She cried out in pain, feeling his shrivelled member inside her. "Stop!" She screamed again, as his breathing got heavier and came out in haggard rasps.

He starting pumping harder and faster into her forcefully, hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. He let one hand off her hips and she felt it move down the front of her dress, violently caressing her breasts. "MINE, understand!" He yelled, pumping faster as she moaned. He breathed out as he convulsed and finished in her, stroking her pussy again. She moaned in disgust as she felt him explode in her and pull out.

Filch turned her over as she moaned, feeling her butt go from excruciating pain to numbness. She lay on her back before him, her brown hair spread out and framing her face, knickers around her ankles and dress rumpled around her hips. The moon light and candles provided the only light, and she finally looked at him, her eyes going south as she shivered. The old man was withered from age, his skin scaly and dry, and she noticed his member was lumpy and shrivelled, but still quite long.

She closed her eyes and turned away, but he grabbed her chin and forced her head to him, pulling her into a harsh kiss. He forced his sandpaper-like tongue into her mouth, and she gagged. He felt her gag and kissed her harder, bruising her lips. He tore the front of her dress and slipped his hand down it, under her bra. He gripped her breast, squeezing it harshly. He finally pulled away, leaving her gasping for air.

Filch watched her face, then grabbed her knees and pulled them apart, licking his way down her inner thigh towards her entrance. She gasped and thrashed weakly, trying to shove him away. "Now, now, my precious." He grinned as she grimaced.

He continued licking his way down her thigh, and she felt his sandpapery tongue lick her entrance. Hermione gasped and bucked her hips into him, making him chuckle. She started panting harder as he went back to licking her inner thighs. "N-no! Haah! Stop! …Aah!" She twitched as he continued, bringing his tongue back to her entrance. He licked there as she bucked and convulsed, spasming. Filch felt her and grinned triumphantly. "So wet, pet. Wet for me, my lovely." His teeth gleamed as he grabbed her knees, putting one on each shoulder.

He brought his head back down and this time put his tongue in her, twirling it around inside her, and fingering her clit. Hermione gasped and arched into him in pleasure, disgusted of what he was doing to her. "STOP!" She screamed hoarsely, panting harder. "Uh…! Ohh…" she moaned, bucking her hips into him. "N-no!" She cried out in miserable pleasure. Then, just as she was about to explode, he pulled away. Her body felt hot and she started to shiver, needing contact there again.

"Now, my pet, say my name. Say who you belong to." He cackled. She thrashed blindly, gasping and panting. "Huuf… No…" She moaned, writhing beneath him. She tried to arch into him again, and he tsked, stroking her. "Don't worry… I'll make it better if you want me to… just say my name. Say who you belong to." He murmured, cooing. "…Filch…" She moaned, bucking again as her body seemed on fire.

"My whole name!" He growled at her. "…ARGUS FILCH!" She screamed, making him grin. "Good, my precious, my little whore… Now, I've got to ask you… Be my valentine?" She nodded breathlessly. He grinned proudly, brought his head back down and continued, finally thrusting his tongue into her as far as he could, leaving his tongue in her as she bucked, her body exploding violently in ecstasy, and came. He licked up the juices as she panted, writhing at the feel of him there.

Filch brought his head up to her face, watching as Hermione cried silently. He forced her mouth open and pushed his tongue in, making her swallow the juices, wincing at the unfamiliar taste. "That's how you feel for me, my precious." She felt her eyes tear up and she cried silently, writhing beneath him. "There there, my pet," he soothed, stroking her hair, "It's alright. Nobody needs to know. No one needs to know how you're my little whore, how you enjoyed having me in you…" she cried harder. "All you have to do…" he paused, making sure he had her attention. "…Is break up with that boy. It's not that bad, now, is it?"

Hermione gasped and Filch cackled, getting off her and walking to his desk, where he pulled out his usual clothes from a draw and changed into them.

Hermione stayed on the floor recovering, breathing heavily. Her brown hair shone in the candle light, and she looked down at her pale thighs. They were covered in saliva and blood was splattered on them, the white and red contrasting horrifically in the moonlight. Slowly she sat up, and saw Filch, fully dressed, watching her. She managed to crawl over to her pile of clothes and get the dirty red dress off, but she struggled doing up her shirt.

She had just grabbed her skirt, when Filch, who had been watching silently the whole time, came up to her. "You won't need these," he grinned, grabbing her knickers from her and smelling them, before putting them into his pocket. She turned away from him and silently put on the rest of her clothes, then turned to leave. Filch had unlocked the door with his wand, but stopped her just before she grabbed the handle. "My lovely, mudblood whore," he stroked her hair. "If you tell anyone what happened, they'll find out how you wanted me. Don't forget what I asked you to do." He paused, letting her open the door.

"Detention tomorrow night, Miss Granger! Same time." He called after her retreating form. "Careful on your way back, missy, it's already two am. Funny how time flies!" He cackled. She shuddered and didn't reply, walking in a zombie-like state back to Gryffindor tower, where she finally collapsed on her bed.

o – o – o

Hermione woke at dawn, memories of the previous night flying through her head. She got up quickly, staggering to the bathroom and locking the door. '_I'm no longer a virgin… at least, from… behind…_' She realized, shuddering. She took off her uniform and examined her body with dark eyes. Her hips had bruises in the form of fingertips on them. Her breasts were red and felt sore, and dry blood and come were splattered over her thighs.

She went into the shower and scrubbed herself as she relived the memories, over and over, scrubbing herself furiously as if it would make what would happen go away. She kept scrubbing herself until her skin was red and sore, and then she sat down in the shower and cried. She moved her hand down her now clean – albeit red – thigh's, and remembered what Filch and done to her, and how as disgusted as she was, she had enjoyed it. Slowly, she slipped her finger inside herself, gasping as she felt the pleasure. She quickly pulled it out, turned off the shower and got dressed, going down to the great hall just before her roommates got up. She realized uncomfortably that she was wearing the uniform she had worn last night, and she had forgotten to wear a new pair of knickers.

She glanced around the great hall and saw the teachers and a few students already there eating breakfast. Filch was no where in sight. Quickly she ran up to the staff table and addressed Dumbledore. "Excuse me, Professor," She started politely.

Dumbledore smiled. "How may I help you, Miss Granger?" He replied.

She shuffled on her feet and heard more students enter the hall, eyes on her curiously. Lowering her tone, she continued. "It came to my attention last night when I was in detention with Mister Filch, that he has a wand. How is that, Professor?" Dumbledore looked surprised, and he peered at her through his half-moon glasses thoughtfully.

"Well Miss Granger - and I'd prefer if you didn't mention this to the other students, as it is Argus' private business – Argus Filch is in fact not a squib. He is the descendant of a cousin of mine, from a rich, pureblood family. He grew up with all he desired, but grew lazy because of this, and dropped out of school at fifteen."

Hermione nodded, and heard more people filing into the Great hall. Dumbledore continued with a sigh. "He lived with his parents after that until he was forty seven, when they finally kicked him out. I took him in, and a few years later, his mother died of a heart attack. Not long after, his father died after a series of strokes, and in their will it stated that if Argus could go for ten years with one job, without using magic, proving to not be lazy anymore, then when he turned sixty he'd inherit everything – the manor, their money." He paused to let his words sink in.

"Mister Filch is to be sixty in a week, and he fulfilled his parents wish only last year. He caught up with most spells in no time, and has been waiting for his birthday and the day he'll inherit everything for quite a while. Surprising, isn't it?" Dumbledore asked, watching her carefully.

She nodded. "Thank you for explaining everything to me, Professor. I won't tell anyone."

"Not to worry! Now, join the others for breakfast- your friends look eager to see you, Miss Granger." Hermione turned to the now noisy crowd in the hall, and saw Harry and Ron waving her over. She sat down beside them, still stuck in her own thoughts, when Dumbledore stood up and made an announcement.

"As you can see, we have a guest joining us today- Madame Frofgali!" He paused as an old, relatively plump lady in an outfit entirely made of purple feathers stood up, and the students clapped politely. "Because of this, our table is full, and Mister Filch will be eating with the Gryffindors this morning. You may all go back to eating now!" He sat back down and continued talking to Professor Flitwit.

Filch stalked into the Great hall and walked over to the Gryffindor table, sitting down – to her horror – next to Hermione. Ron and Harry, and most of the rest of the house glared at him for a while, then decided food was more important and ignored him. Filch simply stared at the empty plate in front of him, his hands under the table.

Hermione sat there uncomfortably, continuing to eat her breakfast, trying to ignore his presence. That was when she felt a hand sliding up her thigh, pushing her skirt up. She gasped and dropped her toast, keeping her legs pressed tightly together. Ron and Harry, who had been discussing Quidditch tactics together, stopped to stare at her.

"Are you alright, Hermione? You look all red." Harry asked, concerned.

Hermione nodded in reply. "I'm f-fine, thanks Harry," she let out breathily.

The boys looked at her strangely but went back to their conversation, and Hermione picked up her toast again. She saw Filch smirk out of the corner of her eye, showing how he enjoyed torturing her in front of her friends. His hand pressed then stroked between her legs, making her body feel on fire. She gulped and bit into her toast noisily.

He seemed to smirk wider as he realized she had no knickers on, slipping his finger slowly inside her. She breathed slowly, feeling him push another finger in, and start pumping into her slowly, slow enough for her to try to arch into his fingers to make him go faster. He continued to look anywhere but at her, and she him. She swallowed her toast and moaned quietly. At this he pushed in three fingers, making her gasp and start panting, her breath shallow. He went faster, harder, pumping forcefully in and out, and just when she was about it explode, he pulled out, got up from the table and walked away.

"Hey, did you see that? He just sat there staring into space and left…" Ron said, looking baffled. Hermione was breathing hard, and she stood up from the table quickly. "See you later!" She let out, running from the Great hall quickly, pretending not to here Harry and Ron yelling after her- asking what's wrong. She ran down the corridor when an arm shot out and dragged her into a supply closet.

"Wha-" the door shut and the light came on, and she saw Filch standing there grinning. "Sorry, my pet. Don't worry, I'll finish you off in here," he murmured, pushing her back against the wall. Hermione gasped and tried to push him away, but he started pumping his fingers into her again, and she moaned and bucked her hips against him. "Oh… Ah!" She panted as he fingered her clit. She exploded into his hand, and slumped against the wall. "No…" she whispered.

"Don't forget what you have to do." Filch muttered, watching her. "If you care for that boy, you should leave him. After all, why would he want you if he knew the truth?" He sneered at her. "You're just a dirty whore, and you're tainted now. No longer pure… He wouldn't accept you."

Hermione shuddered. "That's not true! And I feel nothing for you, you-you rapist!" Filch tsked. "Nothing? Maybe you don't, my pet, but that didn't stop you enjoying it. The way you felt when I'm inside you…" He grinned at her. "You'll do the right thing, my lovely." He kissed her forehead and left her there crying.

o – o – o

"Okay, 'Mione, what's up? You've been acting weird all day…" Ron Weasley stated, watching her curiously.

At lunch she had pulled him aside, and now they were in a deserted corridor, having the conversation Hermione had been dreading. "Ron, the thing is…" she whispered, pausing to regain her composure, "This isn't working out anymore. I don't think we can be together."

Ron was silent, then he turned red. "What!? Bloody hell, only yesterday you said you loved me! Now you want to break up? What the hell is going on, Hermione!"

She shifted uncomfortably, holding back tears that threatened to spill. "It's not you… it's me. I'm sorry, but I really think we weren't meant to be together. Friends?" She asked.

Ron took a deep breath. "Alright." He said at last. "If this is what you want, then okay. I just want you to be happy." He said. Hermione wanted to stop him, to yell at him that he made her happy, that he was her everything- but she didn't. He walked away from her, down the corridor and out of sight, and she finally collapsed on the floor, weeping.

o – o – o

Hermione avoided her two best friends for the rest of the day, and braced herself that night before entering Filch's office. The room was the same as it had been last night, only this time without any candles or Sweetie Hearts. Filch welcomed her in wearing a hideous forest green suit, and as soon as he shut the door behind her, accio-ed her wand. She glared at him as he spelled the door locked and cast a silencing spells on the room.

"You ended it with him. Good girl." Filch muttered, advancing on her. He muttered Powfertica, and Hermione shrieked as she felt herself lose her energy. "Please stop…" she whispered, backing away.

He said nothing, simply turned back to his desk and put his wand away – keeping hers – and took out the red dress. "Put it on," he growled, tossing it to her. She didn't move and he growled again. "Put it on or I'll put it on for you!" She backed away from him and put on the dress as fast as she could under the powfertica spell. Filch grinned as she grimaced, and limped his way to her. "You look beautiful, my lovely." He grabbed some of her brown curls, lifting them to his face and kissing them. She looked away from him, trying not to see the revolting man in front of her.

He grinned wolfishly, pulling out her knickers from his pocket, bringing them to his face and smelling them. He quickly said a charm that dispersed all his clothes, and she backed away as he stood naked before her. Her grabbed her wrist and pushed her to the ground, cackling as he straddled her. He grabbed one of the metal cuffs that usually hung from the ceiling and clasped her hands together in it, watching as her eyes widened in fear. "NO!" She screamed, writhing in horror. He held her cuffed hands above her head and she felt his eyes travel down her body, shuddering as she felt his hardness against her thigh.

He breathed heavily and put his hand on her thigh. "Have you missed me, pet? I've missed you…" He cooed, sliding the dress slowly up to her hips, and grinning at the fact that she had no knickers. He licked her inner thigh as she moaned and wriggled beneath him. "No…" she whispered in a resigned tone.

He snickered as he felt her wetness. "Such a little whore… MY whore…" he muttered to her, stroking between her thighs as she moaned and arched into him. He flashed her wand in her face with a devilish smirk. She gasped as she watched him slide her wand into her slowly, bucking to meet his thrusts. He cackled as she writhed with her wand inside her, and forced it into her as far as it could go.

Hermione shuddered as pain and pleasure collided. "Stop… ah… no! It hurts!" She cried out as he forced the wand in hard. He simply grinned maliciously and drew the wand out slowly, putting the blood covered thing out of her reach. Then, without warning, he straddled her, forcing his shrivelled member in her. He thrust in her harder and faster, sadistically pleased at her cries of pain.

She felt him moving in her, and her hips bucked to meet his movements against her wishes. "Ah! Filch! Haaah… Oh!" She tightened around him and with a spasm of ecstasy exploded. She felt him come inside her a moment later. He collapsed on top of her, his breath coming out in rasps. "Not a virgin anymore…" He cackled in delight, making her shudder. He lay on top of her for a while, not pulling out.

Finally he rolled off her and retrieved her wand, and she looked down at the blood that covered her thighs. He unlocked the hand cuffs he had her in, pulling her up to kneel while he stood in front of her. "No, my pet, you will do something for me…" he thrust his length into her mouth as she gagged, thrusting in and out harder and faster. He gripped her hair and pushed her head against him harshly. "My precious…" He moaned, coming in her mouth. She gagged and swallowed, watching him fearfully.

He turned from her and put his clothes back on, then pulled her to her feet and stroked her head as she whimpered. "Hermione… Hermione…" She tried to recoil as he said her name, hating how it sounded when he said it. He gripped her to him tighter, and then shoved her away to her pile of clothes on the floor. "Detention. Same time next week."

o – o – o

"Curious, is it not Argus, how suddenly the girl Miss Granger disappeared?" Dumbledore asked Filch.

They were talking quietly at the graduation ceremony for the seventh years, and Dumbledore had been watching how Ron and Harry sat miserable and silent by themselves, refusing to have fun with the others. About a week after Argus Filch came into his inheritance, Hermione Granger went missing.

The daily prophet claimed it was probably a death eater who had gotten to her. Most people had come to the conclusion that she was dead.

"Curious indeed, headmaster," Filch sneered back. "I just came by to give you this." He handed him a pouch full of galleons. "A thank you for what you've done for me. I'll be going now." He exited the hall, uncomfortably aware of Dumbledore's eyes following him out.

He walked all the way to Hogsmeade, then apparated back to his manor- a large, dark, dingy mansion. A surprised house elf bowed quickly as he came in. "Welcome back master!" It squealed.

Filch ignored it, and walked up some stairs to the end of a corridor. He entered his room, closing the door behind him gently. "I'm home," He called.

"…Welcome back, Argus." A monotonous voice replied from the majestic blood red bed that dominated the room. He smiled. She was finally breaking. "Good girl." He murmured.

Hermione Granger lay in a short red dress, so torn and tatty it barely clothed her. A chain that let her only move a meter from the bed was connected to a collar around her neck. "My pet," He said.

The End


End file.
